A teenager is sitting at the table. The candlelight is flickering, reflecting his slightly pale face. He is gently pasting a small stamp on the envelope, on which his mother's name is written. The cold moon shines on his meditative back. What is he thinking? Is it a lullaby sung by my mother when I was young, or is it the joy of curled up on my mother's lap when I was a child? Or is it the mother's excitement and joy when she receives the letter? How much he wants to go back and see his dear mother! Stroking this small stamp, he suddenly felt that it was very heavy.
2
Time flies, and now he is a strong young man. He is running on the way to the dock, clutching a small boat ticket tightly. The sun shines on his face, and his heart is filled with joy. Yes, right away, he can get on the boat and go straight to his hometown. She must be looking forward to it at the entrance of the village now, right? Thinking about it, he couldn't help smiling. The ship set sail, and he stood on the deck staring-dreaming, just in the distance.
3
He just stood in front of a short grave-his mother's grave. It was late, but he came back in such a hurry, but it was still late. The drizzle wet his clothes and hair, but he didn't notice it. He hates himself, why he didn't come back earlier, so that he can see his mother for the last time! Mother, it's so cold and lonely down there. Can you stand it? On his face, he can't tell whether it's tears or rain. He grabbed a handful of dirt-this thick dirt, which separated him from his mother mercilessly-he was outside and his mother was inside.
4
Things have changed, and now he is already a white-haired old man. Years have carved too many wrinkles on his face. He is looking at the window for a long time. Of course, he believes that that day will come.